IV. Hence it came, that this soft Harp so long hath been known To mingle love's language with sorrow's sad tone; LOVE'S YOUNG DREAM. I. OH! the days are gone, when Beauty bright My heart's chain wove; When my dream of life, from morn 'till night, Was love, still love! New hope may bloom, And days may come, But there's nothing half so sweet in life, As love's young dream! Oh! there's nothing half so sweet in life, Tho' the hard to purer fame may soar, Tho' he win the wise, who frown'd before, He'll never meet In all his noon of fame, |